Gone
by The-Wicked-Have-More-Fun
Summary: Marluxia has taken over as the new Superior of Organization XIII. With his reign, he claims Lexaeus has been eliminated by Sora. Soon Zexion is attacked and left blind in one eye. Now Vexen is off to have a word with the "Superior". ::NOT DEAD::
1. A Loss

_Lexaeus is gone_. Marluxia's casual words echoed and haunted Zexion's mind. Just they way he'd spoken, as if telling them the Silent Hero had simply gone to Hollow Bastion to pick up a carton of milk. _The Keyblader Sora has eliminated number Five. This is a very inconvenient event for us, but you have my promise as the new Superior that our plans for Kingdom Hearts will go about as intended._ Zexion's stomach clenched at the thought of that bastard Marluxia as Superior. Everyone knew how he'd come into power so quickly and ruthlessly. 

Xemnas was dead now, just like Lexaeus. But to Nobodies a normal death would be a mercy. They don't die, but fade into the darkness and become what they truly were: nothing. 

Taking slow, heavy footsteps through the halls of the castle, the Cloaked Schemer's mind raced despite his slow pace. Lexaeus had not died by Sora's hand, that much was certain. Lexaeus was far too intelligent, far too strong to have been taken out by that dim-witted child. That only left one alternative which most of the Organization already suspected: Marluxia. It was no secret that the Graceful Assassin had feared Lexaeus for his sheer size and strength, despite how greatly Marluxia tried to conceal it. It was also well known that the red-haired Nobody disapproved immensely of the manipulative Marluxia being Superior. On the day the meeting had been called, (three days ago, Zexion shook his head. Only three days,) they had all arrived to find Marluxia sitting ceremoniously in Xemnas's chair, gazing down at the other Nobodies with an arrogant air of superiority.

Figuring out what was going on within a split second, Lexaeus had looked up from his chair and stared at Marluxia with a gaze hard as marble. "You will never be my Superior, Marluxia." With that said, he'd vanished into a sphere of darkness. Controlled rage had been clear on Marluxia's face though he'd struggled to remain clam as Vexen quickly tore into him about what in the worlds was going on.

Zexion shook the rest of the meeting from his head, furrowing his brow as he came upon the room he was looking for. He barley touched the large slate doors before they opened slowly and revealed a sculptor's heaven of a room. Lexaeus's room was wide with a high ceiling to accommodate his size. Piles of gray, brown and red clay covered a long white working table in the far corner of the room and above it shelves upon shelves of different colored glazes. On a hook to the left of the table hung a large, clay-stained apron that had once been white. A kennel, still hot from a recent firing, stood alone in the corner just waiting to be emptied of it's contents. Gray-blue eyes scanned the room, taking in the shapes and figures of clay forms created by the gentle giant. With his large size, Lexaeus always had to be gentle with everything he touched but with his sculptures he was especially careful down to the finest detail. 

The schemer closed his eyes and inhaled deeply; taking in the earthy smell of the clay that permeated the room and had always seemed to cling to his large friend. He could remember many late nights when he'd be up late into the night reading and Lexaeus would come into the lab to try and persuade the short young man to get some sleep. When Zexion refused the conversation would almost always end with him being picked up, cradled like a child, and carried off to his room. Despite his tired, usually slightly slurred objections, he'd always end up drifting off to sleep with that comforting smell of earth in his nose.

Ienzo and Aeleus had always been close, Zexion recalled vaguely. The best of friends and that had carried on even after they'd lost their hearts. Faint, choppy memories of eating ice cream in the park, examining a specimen under a microscope, cowering from Dilan's girlfriend when she got angry (What was her name? He could faintly recall that she was blonde but that was about it). Their Others had been practically inseparable. 

For a moment Zexion was sure he felt the familiar comforting heaviness of a large hand coming to rest on his petite shoulder. His eyes snapped open and his head jerked to look over his shoulder with a vague, irrational hope that Lexaeus was there behind him. But all he could see were the shadows in dancing in the corner of the room. How ironic it was that Zexion's mind was playing tricks on him.

He narrowed his eyes as he spoke softly to himself, "I think…I should have a little talk with Eleven." As he briskly walked out of the room, Zexion was hardly aware of the way his chest clenched as he left behind the familiar smell of his friend's room. He kept his hands balled into fists at his sides, taking long strides despite his short stature. Lexaeus had been his friend and now he was gone. Marluxia would pay. Even Nobodies have a sense of justice. 

* * *

l3 A preview chapter of a story I'll soon be writing with a friend. Hoep I wetted your appitities for what's to come.

Organixation XIII/Kingdom Hearts aren't mine.


	2. A Confrontation

"Marluxia."

Looking up with faux surprise, the Graceful Assassin offered an innocent smile to the short young man walking toward him. The sight of Zexion, dark and serious as he was, among the bright white walls and brightly colored blossoms of Marluxia's large indoor garden was almost a comical sight. "Zexion, what a surprise. How can I help you?"

Brushing past a neon pink flower that was nearly large as he was, Zexion scowled at the gardener tending to his flora. "We need to talk." Marluxia slowly rose from his kneeling position by a potted palm, brushing dirt from the forest green apron he wore over his black robe.

When he smiled again his eyes remained indecipherable. "Of course." He untied the knot behind his back and left the apron carefully sprawled out next to the plant as a reminder of what he'd previously been doing. "Come, walk with me." He stretched one arm toward the schemer invitingly. Zexion walked right past him, taking light steps deeper into the artificially lit garden and stepping around potted plants and flowers that almost seemed to turn and watch as he passed by. The sensation of being watched by plants was, to say the least, a little unnerving for him.

Nevertheless, Marluxia followed close behind with that same smile on his face. "What was it you wanted to talk about?"

"You know why I'm here."

"Ah. Lexaeus." Marluxia stepped up beside Zexion, his hands folded patiently behind his back as they walked in time with each other.

"I want to know what really happened, XI."

"Zexion, I told all there is to tell. The Keyblade Master and his accomplices ambushed Lexaeus and he was eliminated. A terrible shame, too. He was one of our strongest members." One quickstep ahead of Zexion combined with a swift turn and a light, but firm, hand was resting on VI's shoulder. "And that's _Superior_ now."

The shrouded conspirator lifted his head and stared at the taller man seriously with his uncovered eye. "That's exactly the problem with your story. Lexaeus was far too strong to simply fall at that brat's hand. And I'm very curious to know how you acquired the knowledge on _how_ he was killed when you haven't left The World That Never Was in the past week. It's no use lying anymore, we all know it was you who took him out." His voice took on a lower tone on the verge of a growl. "If I may repeat Lexaeus, _you will never be my superior_."

Marluxia's hand dropped from his shoulder and he sighed in a tone that bordered on dramatic. "A pity…I really was hoping to have at least one of the original six on my side willingly." A slight rustling sound instantly altered Zexion's attention but he was too late to react. Strong green vines darted out from the various plants surrounding the pair and latched onto the petite Nobody's arm and legs, anchoring him in place. He gasped in shock and pain as the vines tightened around his limbs, their thorns piercing through his cloak and digging into his skin. Zexion inwardly cursed himself for letting his guard down so easily, especially in Marluxia's element.

"It truly would be such a waste to destroy you, Zexion…" The assassin lamented, circling his ensnared prey like a cat toying with a wounded mouse. His gloved fingers, slender and graceful, tapped at his chin in thought. "You have such potential to be great asset to me…unlike that brute Lexaeus." A soft snarl escaped VI's throat, the last sound he could make before thick, thorny vines latched themselves onto his throat, cutting into opaque flesh and silencing all sound save for the faint gasps of respiratory distress. "True, he was strong but he never did like me. A pity too, our elements went so nicely together…earth and plants." Merciless blue eyes leveled on a frosty gaze, their pupils growing slowly dilated from the lack of oxygen and pain.

Marluxia's hand reached out and touched Zexion's cheek as he knelt down, his fingers brushing away the slate-colored hair that shielded the boy's left eye from view almost constantly. His other hand moved delicately to the smaller Nobody's right shoulder, his fingers digging into the skin and bone on contact. The librarian tried not to flinch and gritted his teeth against the dull pain that throbbed down his back, shoulder and arm. XI's voice softened as his left hand came to rest under the schemer's chin, tilting his head up slightly as his thumb lightly stroked the faintly lavender skin under Zexion's eye. His gaze seemed almost mournful despite the smile on his lips that bordered on sadistic. "Such a beautiful waste…"

Zexion spit in his face.

The taller man's head jerked back in obvious surprise by the retaliation though his grip on his former superior only tightened, causing the captive to grunt faintly through clenched teeth. For a fleeting moment a look of pure rage flickered across Marluxia's features but it was quickly replaced with a blank, almost robotic stare. The large splat of saliva sparkled in the lights and slowly dripped down his cheek, seemingly forgotten. Marluxia's grip on Zexion's shoulder and collarbone tightened, as did the vines around his limbs. "That wasn't a very smart decision." A sudden loud cracking sound echoed through the air followed by a blinding pain that nearly sent Zexion to his knees. Through the fog of pain he knew without a doubt that his collarbone was broken.

"Not…" Marluxia's hand, still clenching the Cloaked Schemer's cheek tightened. "…Smart…" This thumb outlined Zexion's glaring left eye. "…At…" It was then that the assassin suddenly pressed down, driving the digit into his eye socket. "…All."

The vines around his neck loosened only so Zexion could finally scream.

_**…Water itself is a simple molecule made up of two hydrogen atoms and one oxygen atom, H20. The hydrogen and oxygen atoms are bonded covalently as shown in the diagram of water's electron structure. Water is not a linear molecule; the two hydrogen atoms form a bond with the oxygen at the angle of 104.5o. **_

With an irritated sigh, Vexen slammed the textbook shut and slipped his glasses off the bridge of his nose. They dangled loosely from his fingertips before he finally decided to slip them into the pocket of his coat. How in the worlds could this have happened? It didn't make the smallest bit of sense. Marluxia? _Superior_? There was no way the arrogant fool could've beaten Xemnas so easily, not without help.

Slowly, a bitter scowl began to cross his sharp features. Of course…Marluxia little alliance with Larxene and Axel must have played some part of it. That was the only explanation. Especially now that, according to the flower-flinging gomeral, Eight and Eleven now raked above what was left of the original six.

Then there was Lexaeus…though he'd refused to show it, the loss of the Silent Hero had affected the scientist deeply. He had been an unnecessary casualty in a bloody coup, a staggering loss to the Organization, a strong colleague departed and a friend gone.

_Not a friend,_ Vexen bickered with himself. _We are Nobodies and therefore do not truly exist. Things that do not exist do not have friends and even if we did we do not have the hearts to feel friendship_. _The relationship was simply due to the connection Even and Aeleus had once upon a time._

_Oh, we do too have hearts! _Number Four was mildly surprised by the sudden young, nasal voice arguing with him in his head. _And we really do exist. We can smile and laugh and feel pain, just like normal people. How do any of those count as not existing? _Vexen frowned, folding his arms across his chest to disagree. _And, on top of all that, we think. If we didn't exist could we think and use our brains? I don't think so._ The argument ended with the sound of a blown raspberry then silence.

After a moment, Vexen pressed his hand over his eyes and groaned slightly. _Confound it; he's been around me so long I'm even hearing his voice in my head_. _And he has a point, the imp._ He sighed and shook his head. _Is it even possible for someone so deceivingly smart to be so incredibly immature?_

"Vexen!"

_Speak of the devil and he shall appear._ The Chilly Academic sighed and stood up, turning around to face the door into the lab. "Demyx, what is it-" The cold scientist's exasperated expression quickly changed to shock at the sight before him.

Panicked aqua eyes stared at Vexen, fraught with worry and fear. A streak of bright red blood was slowly dripping down the young Nocturne's cheek and dribbling down his neck. More of it stained and dripped from his black leather coat, droplets of the liquid making tiny pools on the cement floor. None of it, though, belonged to XI.

Held up only by the Neophyte's arm around his waist, Zexion was slumped against Demyx's shoulder, his breathing visibly shallow and quiet. Bruises and bleeding scratches covered most of his exposed flesh and a steady drip of crimson fell from his gloved fingertips. His black cloak was all but shredded and the right sleeve was missing all together, exposing his unnaturally angled and limp arm. Zexion's steel-colored hair, slightly damp with water, flopped over his left eye. The limp locks failed to conceal the steady trickle of blood down his ivory cheek.

"I-I just found him in the hallway like this, I swear!"

"Get him over to the table. Now." Demyx did as he was told, dragging his unconscious superior over to the metal table used as a desk and for medical purposes when necessary. Vexen moved quickly to remove the textbook he'd been reading and toss it into his chair, forgotten and out of the way. Zexion shuddered slightly as he came to contact with the cold metal but didn't awaken. "What happened?"

"I don't know!" Demyx whined, standing beside the table awkwardly. As he spoke his voice seemed to get smaller and smaller. "I was walking to the kitchen for a snack and I just found him sprawled out in the middle of the hall like a broken toy. He wasn't moving so I brought him down here to you. I tried to get him to wake up by splashing a little water on him but…"

Vexen's gaze shifted from Zexion's broken form to the sitar player's face. "You did the right thing, Demyx." He spoke in the soft, even tone one would use when trying to calm a spooked animal or a hysterical child. "I'm going to need your help. I want you to go to the cabinets over there and get me a vile of the blue liquid and a syringe. Do you understand?"

"Y-Yeah, blue stuff and a needle. Gottcha." The Melodious Nocturne moved quickly to the metal cabinet against the far wall, doing what he was told with shaking hands and trembling knees. When he brought the objects to Vexen, he nervously shifted from foot to foot beside the table. "What're they for anyway?"

"It's an anesthetic." The cold chemist explained, puncturing the top of the tiny glass bottle with the needle and filling the syringe with the brilliant blue fluid. "I don't want him to wake up while I'm examining him." He cast a glance on the nervous musician. "Six isn't exactly fond of getting injections."

For the first time a smile flickered across Demyx's youthful face. "Zexion is afraid of needles?"

"Not afraid." The older man corrected. "Ienzo hated getting shots and that carried on after he lost his heart." He rolled up Zexion's left tattered sleeve and his brow furrowed when he saw the scratches and puncture marks covering his pale skin. Methodically, he carefully slid the needle under the Cloaked Schemer's skin and decided to ignore Demyx's faint groan of revulsion. Zexion grimaced despite his cataleptic state but quickly relaxed as the drug took effect, a faint moan escaping his lips as his head fell lazily against his shoulder. "There, that should keep him out. Now, Nine, I'm going to need your help…"

The Nocturne nodded, meekly stepped toward the table. "As long as he doesn't bleed on me." Vexen rolled his eyes and grumbled something about Demyx having to overcome his squeamishness at some point in his life. The scientist/doctor quickly set to work examining Zexion, taking careful notice of the odd bruise patterns covering his limbs and neck. Demyx stood by idly, wincing every so often as he watched.

"Hm, it looks like his shoulder is dislocated and his collarbone is broken…Demyx, hold him still."

"Wait, why?"

Vexen sighed in irritation, pinching the bridge of his nose to battle an oncoming headache. "I need to set the bone and pop his shoulder back in place. Hold onto his other shoulder and his hip. I don't need him squirming like the time Even had to give Ienzo stitches when he sliced his hand on a broken test tube." As the musician reluctantly did as he was told, the academic took Zexion's arm delicately in his thin hands and, astonishingly casually, jerked his arm upward to create a loud popping sound as the joint was reconnected and the bone set back into place. The sitar player jumped back in recoil while Zexion didn't stir.

"That went smoother than I expected…Demyx, go get the roll of gauze and some scissors from the bottom left drawer there…yes, that's it." Vexen took the gauze from the trembling musician and set to work on binding the bibliophile's arm in a makeshift sling.

After a few moments of silence, Demyx spoke up again with a gulp. "Vexen, what's wrong with his eye…?"

Vexen didn't look up from his work. "What do you mean?"

"I mean he has blood on his face…it's dripping down his cheek from his eye." He reached out and carefully brushed away the long sections of bangs from his superior's sleeping face only to recoil with a low moan. "Ohhh man!"

With a frown, the Chilly Academic mimicked the Neophyte's methods. A grim expression shadowed his face as he let Zexion's hair fall back into place. Silently, he picked up the gauze and scissors again to make a pad to cover the wound.

"…He won't be able to see out of that eye again, will he?"

"I don't think so, Demyx." Now finished with his work, Vexen sank into his chair, trying to make sense of what had happened to the Cloaked Schemer. A renegade Heartless perhaps? No, it was unlikely a simple Shadow or Neoshadow could make the strange bruise patterns he'd seen, not to mention that getting mauled by Heartless was a completely novice mistake. The scientist suppressed a snicker at the memory of Axel's first week and getting to watch him almost get speared by a Lancer.

"Ew, it looks like someone intentionally stuck their finger in his eye…" Demyx was murmuring as he hovered over Zexion, squinting at his various wounds. "The bruises looks like he was tie up or something and these marks look a lot like needle pokes or some kind of thorns-" He was suddenly quiet. The exact same thought struck Vexen and the two Nobodies slowly lifted their heads to look at each other.

"_Marluxia_." Vexen's voice was a low hiss, as if the assassin's very name was pure venom in his mouth. He stood abruptly from his chair, clenching his hands into fists to keep them from shaking. "That bastard…that sordid, detestable, vile-!" He started toward the door, his ranting rage becoming more and more evident. "Who does he think he is? I'm going to go to that infernal garden of his and TEAR HIM APART!"

"Vexen…" A soft hand rested lightly on his shoulder.

"Don't try to stop me, Demyx, my mind is made up!"

Slowly, a pair of thin arms wrapped around the cold scientist's waist. Demyx's cheek lightly touched his back. "I'm not going to try and stop you." The Nocturne's voice was a soft murmur against the black leather. "Just don't end up like Zexion, okay…?"

For a moment, the Chilly Academic's anger melted and he sighed, his tense form relaxing slightly. "I can handle myself, Demyx. You stay here and make sure Six doesn't wake up."

Brushing out of the sitar player's grip, Vexen left the lab and tried to ignore it when Demyx muttered, "That's probably what Zexion thought too."


End file.
